Not exactly nothing

I've always been opposed to singles collections on principle. They seem in-dicative of a general laziness and are poor excuses for new albums. Modest Mouse's new release, Building Nothing Out of Something, however, shows why these albums do periodically flourish. I've always been befuddled by the showers of critical acclaim that Modest Mouse receives. They were always just good enough to get by, their flashes of brilliance mired in an overriding mediocrity. For the most part though, Building Nothing Out of Something corrals these flashes, the brightest spots of the band's previous six efforts, into a comprehensive and agreeable retrospective—a successful singles collection.

At its best, the album is like "Never Ending Math Equation"—driven, climactic rock n' roll, with simple three piece arrangements in which the energy levels get so high that lead man Isaac Brock can't help but scream. But at its worst the album overuses quirky production techniques, and consequently, borders on melodrama. When, à la John Cage, "Medication" layers sporadic instrumentation over a constant stream of incidental traffic noise, it loses all sense of subtlety and completely flops.

What truly makes the album a victory, however, is the band's willingness to complement their characteristic brashness with their potential for gentle beauty. Though stingily rationed on previous releases, Modest Mouse is capable of crafting a quiet passion that is rarely surpassed in indie rock. Even when Brock, on "Baby Blue Sedan," croons clichés like "I'm lonesome when you're around/Never lonesome when I'm by myself," he does so in a way that evokes the original emotions behind them. Ultimately though, it is not Brock but the music that carries the album and establishes the desired listener-song relationships. In the haunting rendition of Santo and Johnny's perennial prom favorite "Sleepwalking," for example, the wailing steel guitar creates a tension between mystery and ecstasy crucial to the song's message of teenage love.

Even the few songs that act as filler still remind the listener of the band's potential to be fantastic. They may drag on some two minutes too long and their lyrics may lack inspiration, but the songs inevitably stumble upon a moment of greatness (if only to immediately lose sight of it). And while it's frustrating that Modest Mouse cannot convert these moments into a full album of great songs, there's no reason not to enjoy those isolated instances/singles when everything simply fell into place. (Up)

—Thomas Kane

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